


Jail and The Not So Single Man

by ForevermoreNevermore



Category: Breakout Kings
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForevermoreNevermore/pseuds/ForevermoreNevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The small moments  that Lloyd spent in jail, spanning from his first step in to his first night out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jail and The Not So Single Man

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this needs a disclaimer, because one of the scenes runs directly into one from the show and consequently has some script from the show (I don't think it's completely accurate), but let the record show that I do not own said script and I do not profit from it.

The bed's as hard as his time. 

He thinks his cell mate is trying to tell him something. He's obviously a peacock parading his feathers, 'touch my stuff and I'll kill you, breathe and I'll kill you, I'll probably kill you'. Lloyd doesn't really listen. He's actually quite numb, which shouldn't be but he's a psychiatrist and an addict and a murderer so he doesn't give a shit. He wants to be numb. 

Someone's playing cards in a cell within hearing distance. They shuffle like a boar over tile- fbththth...

"Aw, gross man! Now the whole place is going to smell like-" fbththth... "What. Is. Your. Issue?" His fingers are hovering within touching distance of the toilet rim but he is proud to say that he is disease free and he'd like to keep it that way. There's stuff in the bowl, but it doesn't appear to be food (probably because the last time he ate was quite awhile ago). 

Bile, that little Dr. Lowery rattles off from the back of his mind. And you're not sick, it continues, stop puking.

Fbththth...

It doesn't help and he continues to strip his esophagus into the awaiting metallic bowl. A dry heave sears up and he doubles over, hitting his head on the wall and desperately hoping it wouldn't knock any of his IQ points off. 

"Dude, get up," there's a soft kick to his side, but he is almost beyond the brink of noticing. There's too many things arguing in his mind for anything else to even be a bother.

And so he sits, mainly on his bed, occasionally where they put him. He stares off into space as if it is indeed the most fascination thing on the face of the planet. For about a week it goes on like this, until one day his cell mate comes back, toting a pair of red backed cards with him. 

Lloyd is teetering in the middle of two bitter emotions when he asks, "Wanna play?" A little hair of the dog that bit you, Dr. Lowery?

The man (probably should learn his name) stares at him like he was a brought to life statue. 

"Do you have anything to play for?" he snaps back, leaning against the bed and bridging the cards between his fingers.

Amateur. 

"We'll officially start my tab. It's hard time, where the hell am I going?" 

________________

 

They were playing for his ass.

No really, they were playing poker... for his ass. Which is probably the worst kind of game to play over one's tuckus, really. And yes, he saw the f-u-c-king irony thankyouverymuch.

They weren't even playing for the honor to court said ass. No, they were playing for the order that they were going to line their carts up in and who got to start this only partially metaphorical gravy train off. They didn't even give him a head start in hiding; they gave him two options. Stay and watch these amateur homo-sapians fumble their way into his honey pot or leave and have them all barge in at once. 

Lucky for him, however, was that the showers did little to conceal. He knew which order he wanted them to go in if it was indeed going to happen. He was going to ride this train like a smooth decline into Hell. 

"You see, you might want to-"

"Shut up, Lowery." Sanders grumbled. Well then. 

"Lloyd Lowery, you're being transferred." Oh thank Mary, Joseph, Jesus and all things Holy this side of Atheism. 

Lloyd threw that shit in the can like it was confetti. "Ciao bitches." 

________________

 

The pencil slides across the table, and Lloyd thinks he might've just swallowed something he shouldn't have. He knew that fucking toilet wine was a bad idea.

"It's, uh-" Julianne begins, then stops, abruptly clacking her teeth in her haste to close her jaw. The good doctor's heart is hammering in his chest and she tries again. "Another gesture," she gives a tentative, about twenty percent real, laugh. "Actually, it's a returning gesture. I thought it was about time, really. But I shouldn't have done this..." And she opens her purse and quickly sweeps the pencil back into the black abyss, along with any semblance of hope that Lloyd imagined could be left in this shitty prison. Julianne turns her head to see if anyone saw, then finally glances up and must've figured out that that look wasn't "oh, ha ha you got me" but more, "gee, thanks for plopping my heart out of my chest like a pistachio... again". She's quick to speak.

"Oh! Nonono! The gesture stands! It really does," and her hand jerks across the table to grasp at his wrist and- asdghjkl...

His mind fizzled and he blinked drunkenly at her. "Huh?"

Julianne huffed at him, her gaze attempting to be severe even over the blush. "It's probably not a good idea to bring an easily sharpened piece of wood into a jail, really. I should've thought of that..." before she can properly reprimand herself, Lloyd adjusts her grip so that he can grab her wrist in return. Her face drops with her small tirade, and she looks dumbly at him. "It just wasn't one of my best plans."

"Nah. I'm sure you've had worse. I mean, college. I heard about the weed and-" She jerks at his wrist and he'll be damned if she wasn't stronger than he expected. He's hauled closer to the table and halfway onto the thing, plastic digging into his hips. 

"Lloyd Lowery..." she warns, one of those pretty eyebrows arching up at him. Lloyd finds that he's practically melting onto the table, but he could not care less.

"Yes mam." Turns out that the harsh line of her mouth was just that harsh to hold back a brilliant smile. "You'll make a good man out of me yet." 

Suddenly she twisted at her arm, clipping Lloyd's elbow onto the table so that she could look at her watch. 

"Oh geez, I've really got to be somewhere!" 

"But we haven't even talked about how many kids we were going to have!" Her look is equal parts horror and amusement, and Lloyd bites on the side of his tongue. He attempts a snark recovery. "It was a joke."

Julianne looks like she wants to sweep him up into one of those kisses, those Gone-with-the-Wind-frankly-my-dear-I-don't-give-a-damn things. But instead she sweeps away, and Lloyd eyes the man by the door critically as he sees something he likes. 

Occasionally Shea sits by himself at lunch, and today was just one of those days. Lloyd sweeps into the bench across from him and if looks could kill.

"You, my good compadre, are going to be one of my groom's men." Shea nods into his roll, obviously already over the nerdy blond broom perched in his vicinity.

"Fire and ice my good man, I told you... wait." The roll was tossed onto the tray and Shea gave him that 'are you shitting me look', which was way better than the 'you're ass is going into the disposal' look he gives at times. "Hold up, you have like four friends, and you're marrying one of those. Who else you going to pick?"

"Ah, you see," Lloyd steepled his fingers over the table and leaned in conspiratorially, "I promised my mom she could be the best man." Shea choked on his drink and Lloyd mentally checked that as a win.

"Naah, you and Ray can duke it out for it." Shea raised his hands in defeat.

"Shoot, I don't want it that bad. And besides, aren't you counting your chickens a little bit before they hatch?"

"No way. She gave me a pencil." 

Shea was quite for a long moment. "What?"

"I call it the Lloyd Lowery Pencil Method and you will find it is very effective."

______________

 

Lloyd is let out of jail on a Thursday. Julianne is there waiting for him, that smile he'd loved for so long suddenly new and different. It was a smile of someone who's patience was being rewarded. She sidled up beside him and he pulled her all the closer. He'd hoped for maybe a kiss on the cheek, but apparently he and Julianne weren't on the same wave length yet. 

She turned and grasped at his face, jerking him into a kiss that knocked the cartilage out of his knees and the blood out of his brain. His chuckle was slightly manic and Julianne carefully unglued their faces so that she could eye him.

"You okay?" she asks tentatively, unsure if she should laugh with him or have him committed. Lloyd brushes gently at the side of her neck with a thumb and goes in for a softer kiss.

"Best I've ever been." Something lit up her face as she remembered something.

"Oh yeah, Ray told me to tell you that he was glad that your sorry gambling ass got out of jail before I became infertile. Then he said if you acted on my fertility he was going to knock the Miracle Grow out of you." 

"Hmm, well you tell him that he better not leave the office unlocked or that's the first place-"

"No."

"Aww, come on Jules."

"Nope. Not going to happen." He tried to not to look to much like beaten puppy. Oh who was he kidding, he dialed his best puppy dog eyes up all the way but that woman just shook her head and began to walk away. Heartless. And he said so.

Julianne turned around carefully, head slowly rotating on that neck until she could look him in the eye. There were two things warring over for her facial expression, she settled for something that Lloyd had never actually seen aimed at him. "I don't really need a heart for what I'm going to do tonight." 

Well then...

And thus Lloyd learned that when proded into the mating game, his brain becomes a hamster. "You know if you didn't have a heart you couldn't pump the blood and you'd be dead-" stop talking Lloyd "and I'm reeeeally not into necrophelia but-" OhGodohGod what is this- "I suppose if it was you I could make an exception."

...What...

Jules frowns, then smiles, then manages to do both and it DOES things to Lloyd's stomach. 

"You do realize that my flirting skills have become greatly hampered by my stay in Casa De Jail and-"

"No...no. I think I'm sensing something sweet in there." Then she nods to herself as if she'd just made the best decision of her life. She angles his forehead down so she can lay a kiss on it. "I am beginning to speak your language, Lloyd."

"Is it the language of-"

"Stop talking."

"'kay." 


End file.
